Bardock Freaking Destroys Little Vegeta
by Homohyeah
Summary: Kinda hardcore probably. Gore and obviously sex and yeah shota...it's a mess in here.


Bardock was using a knife to scrape the dark brown, oxidized blood from beneath his fingernails, his movements jerky, his breath hard. His hands were leathered over with calluses, huge rough planes of deeply indented flesh so thick as to have nearly no feeling. The hands of a father—father of two, as he was so slow to remember. The body of a warrior, broad swellings of muscle crowding the veins up out of his arms so that they had no choice but to push against the skin, his shoulders like an ox and his neck bulging with taut tendrils of muscle. There wasn't an ounce of sinew on his body—his bite may have been something legendary, but his bark served as a perfectly fair warning to not fuck with this man. He glared at his thumbnail as a bright red spigot of blood began to surge from under it, signifying he'd cut himself. Not in pain, but in irritation, he slammed the knife down blade-first into the small table in the corner of his room. He was getting fucking sick of it. Of it—of Frieza. Uppity little faggot prick. Manipulative little monster hiding behind his masses of soldiers, behind his inconceivable fortune that had reached the extent currency can control and was now beginning to have its bulk compromised of the only true currency in this end of the universe, force and blood. Again, he'd returned with his team, bearing scars, with blood in their teeth, to have Frieza and his blue butt-buddy remark at how mediocre of warriors they were. Mediocre warrior—worse than monkey, worse than the n-word, something you do not call a Saiyan under any circumstance lest you want four hundred pounds of revenge slammed down like holy thunder onto you and yours. And Saiyans did not have the patience to let their vengeance cool. Forty minutes after the infuriating session with his "boss", Bardock slammed his knife down blade-first, stood up in such a manner as to knock over his chair, and surged out of the room like a kamehameha in slow-motion. Out in the hall, there was nothing worth destroying. Plain floors, plain walls, no one of interest. His boots thumping hard, he stormed down toward the lounge, nothing in mind yet hopeful something would present itself. And in the lobby, right down the hall from his tiny dorm, there it was. Fifty pounds of leverage, playing with its own tail like a toddler. Young Prince Vegeta had honored the Saiyan masses with his pint-sized presence, and now stood before the humble vending machine, deciding on a drink. There were only a few others in the room, occupied with their little hobbies and seemingly unaware of the Prince. As he heard the sound of Bardock approaching, little Vegeta turned around, dropping his tail. "You!" He snapped in his high, dry voice. "Peasant! Give me a zenny. I want a juice." Bardock's hand twitched back in preparation to bitch slap the little fuck right through the wall, but he restrained himself. Slapping the Prince was nothing that hadn't been done before, and nothing that would make much of a useful mark. No, Frieza's little pet monkey needed something much more impressive than that to make it a proper insult. Bardock needed to steal the seven-year-old, destroy him, and then return the shattered pieces for it to be a real fuck-you. "Uh. I've got a few zenny back in my room." Bardock muttered lacklusterly, giving a vague gesture with his hand the size of a pineapple. "Well what are you waiting for?" The kid never used contractions. It was a little unnerving. Bardock shrugged and turned back to walk toward his room, the constant tiny tap of Prince Vegeta's itty bitty feet on the hard floor following him. Back down the short hall, where Bardock opened the door to his one-room soldier's dormitory. "This room smells like pee!" Vegeta snapped, crossing his arms in the doorway. "Hurry up so I can go already." Bardock surveyed the kid. He was small for a seven-year-old, Bardock thought—he saw his older kid around every now and again, that thing couldn't have been much older than seven, and he reached his waist. This little fuck was barely over knee-high. Small especially to be King Jolly Green Vegeta's son. Rumor had it he was an instance of enormous power in a small package, but there's only so much power that can fit into a package so small, no matter how concentrated. Yes, Bardock decided, this was the way forward on this one—this was the ultimate fuck-you to Frieza. Neither subtly nor suspiciously, Bardock reached over the Prince to close the door. He flipped the latch casually, and then stepped back. "Hey! I don't want to be in here. Give me a zenny and open the door, smelly peasant." Little Vegeta demanded, chubby-fingered hands resting on his hips. "Shut the fuck up, you little monkey-cunt." Bardock said calmly. Vegeta's eyebrows furrowed, though his posture didn't change. "Make another noise, and I'm going to cut you up so badly your dad won't even recognize you." Little Vegeta opened his mouth. There was a flash of movement and a tearing sound—Vegeta looked up to see Bardock holding the knife he'd torn from the table up in his hand, having completed the arch of the swing. His giant eyes shifted back down, mouth still frozen open, to see his leotard sliced cleanly from sternum to groin. The cut was so clean the skin was still pressed together as if it hadn't realized it could part, though once it did, it split as if his chest had been unzipped. Droplets of blood formed, dripping rivulets, and after maybe two full seconds a thick stream of cherry-red blood was oozing thickly down his legs, into his underwear, and onto Bardock's floor. His eyes widened as he looked up at his captor, realizing the severity of the situation. "If you attempt to speak again, I'll open your chest cavity so that all of your organs fall out. Do you understand?" Tears of pain or fear were gathering in the kid's eyes. He nodded curtly, pressing his lips together tightly to signify his dedication to silence. Bardock nodded back, and then took the time to survey the sight before him. He hadn't cut deeply, but the length and thickness of the cut relinquished as much blood as if he had stabbed through an artery. The kid's knees were shaking, hard, and his face had drained of color. He was doing his best to keep from passing out, for fear of punishment. The smell of blood was suffocating, the cold smell of iron and salt wafting from the kid's boots, which had no doubt filled with the stuff. "Take off that…thing. That you're wearing. The boots too." Vegeta nodded again, too terrified to show any sign of displeasure at the idea. He attempted to bend down to pull off his boot, but tipping led him to falling flat on his face. He was no doubt lightheaded from the blood loss. He lay there for a moment, and only after a threatening grunt from the older Saiyan did he push himself onto his butt and properly pull off his little white boots. On the ground, he pulled the straps of his leotard thingy to reveal his round shoulders, awkwardly wiggling his arms up out of them and pulling it down his torso, bouncing his chubby butt to get it down to his legs and off of his feet. He sat in a pool of his own blood in his little tighty whities, bleeding like a whore, crying like a bitch, fallen so hard off of his pedestal of corpses. Bardock let his imagination wander, deciding how to make art from this canvas. So many options. "Underwear, too." He said, gesturing vaguely with the knife. Little Vegeta looked up at him with pleading eyes, not asking for pity but asking, why? But he obeyed. He crawled back to his little hooves, hesitantly fingering the elastic. He rolled them down his hips, past his thick baby thighs, and then stepped out. Bare-ass naked, the kid shivered, cupping his crotch in both hands. Bardock set the knife down on the table, this time laying it down properly. He picked up the underwear, soaked with dark blood and smelling like kid piss, like he hadn't changed them in far too long, and pushed them into Vegeta's mouth. He gagged, hard, but didn't bite or attempt to block the passage. A few more tears sprung from the corners of his eyes, his dark eyelashes fluttering. The little fuck had a stream of mucus leaking from his nose; he probably could just barely breathe through the filter of his own crotch filth. He let out a noise when Bardock lifted him by one arm, though it was excused due to matters of more import taking place. There wasn't all that much weight to tug down on his shoulder joint, so he handled that relatively tearlessly. It was when Bardock chucked him underhand at the wall so that his round little face slammed into the cold metal wall mouth-first that he showed real pain. He landed on his back on the bed, the area around his mouth bright red. Looking inside, Bardock saw that he'd hit his teeth on the wall, and hard. The front two hadn't fallen out, but had snapped in half like crackers. Probably just baby teeth. Bardock stepped forward and placed his thumb with minimal pressure on the broken edge, and little Vegeta let out a noise halfway between a growl and a shriek, muffled by the wad of cotton and blood, writhing hard. Yup. Exposed nerves. And he had his inspiration. Bardock was wearing loose work-out pants without underwear, so it was easy for him to pull his cock out. He held his flaccid member in his palm, letting it drop off the end. He was hung so well as to be unattractive; a freak-show kind of dick, even for a Saiyan. He saw Vegeta goggling at it, horrified at this new weapon of torture. "It ain't gonna suck itself, kid." Bardock growled. Vegeta cowered on the bed, covering his head with his hands as if he were afraid Bardock was going to bludgeon him over the head with it. When his captor tilted his head forward, eyebrows raised, he nodded, and crawled forward. Bardock held his penis up at mouth-height for the boy on his hands and knees on the sweat-stained bed, currently pulling his own underwear out from the back of his throat. He closed his eyes as he felt the little ring of his lips spread, kissing the tip of his enormous, flaccid cock. He was doing his best to not touch the shattered edge of his teeth against the skin, but, impatient as always, Bardock tired of waiting for his precious little mouth to adjust, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and pulled him in toward his stomach. Little Vegeta shrieked around the massive cock in his mouth as the head of the penis scraped roughly against the nerves of his teeth, sending cold, electric pain straight up to the roots of his hair. His eyes rolled back, overwhelmed with horror as the man used his face like a fleshlight, ripping its way in and out of his lips. Only two or three inches of the entire length managed to actually pass into him before the head of his cock pounded against his tonsils, bludgeoning his throat until the thin skin broke and began to bleed, adding an extra obstacle to Vegeta's attempts at breathing. Bardock slowed as he felt the sharp edge scraping at him loosen, and then fall. The roots of Vegeta's teeth had been weakened by the blow, and the extra abuse had wiggled them completely free. The two bleeding, jagged stumps plinked as they bounced off the hard floor. Bardock gazed boredly at them, and then back to the face from where they'd came. With his face still distorted by the girth of the half-chub in his mouth, his eyes had rolled back almost entirely, his shallow chest rising and falling sharply with silent sobs. Something about the sight pissed Bardock off; this little fuck acting so broken after so little trauma. The little piss couldn't begin to imagine pain, not if this was his standard. With the sound of sobs and the smell of blood creating a suitable atmosphere, Bardock pulled out of Vegeta's mouth and slipped his blood and saliva smeared cock back into his loose pants. Turning back to the table, Bardock picked up the knife again. When he turned back, the little prince was eying him with half-lidded eyes, his mouth lolling open in terror, puckered like a fish trying to breathe air. "You're going to sit still." Bardock informed Vegeta. Vegeta gave the slightest forward inclination of his head. He bridged the distance between them with one step, and then squatted down on one knee by the side of the bed. Right above the kid's ass, he pushed the knife into the base of his tail, the knife parallel to the length of it. Vegeta's knees pulled up to his chest, but he restrained himself from making any noise other than a painful gasp. The point pushed down to the bone, where the slightest wiggle managed to crack the vertebrae lengthwise. With little more than a centimeter keeping the tail from completely separating, he pulled it down his tail, splitting it like an overcooked hot dog. Vegeta let out small, choked noises, indecipherable from those one might make during a mind-blowing orgasm, as he felt the sharp pain, not yet knowing that it was simply a preparation for further torture. His tail didn't have too much blood in it to begin with, so the halved spine, filled with yellowed marrow, was easily visible, cradled within the brown fur by a soft rim of wet, pink flesh. Bardock pushed his finger down into the tip of one of the halves, applying gentle pressure. "If you can make it to the door, you can leave." Little Vegeta rolled his dewy eyes over to Bardock's face, his mouth still distorted with an open frown. Seeing no sign of what to expect, Vegeta nodded, and pushed himself up onto his butt. Instantly, he blacked out, landing on his back again. Moving forward on adrenelin, his eyes popped back open, and he sat himself up again, managing to stay up this time. He wiggled forward until his feet were over the edge, and then attempted to shift his weight onto the floor. The half of the tail that Bardock had his finger on tore roughly apart from the free half, threads of flesh pulling and breaking. An anguished scream ripped its way out of Vegeta's mouth. He understood the challenge now. Still, he knew this was an opportunity he could not give up. He shoved his way onto his feet, wobbled until he gained his balance, and then slid one foot forward. Another few inches of flesh tore, splitting his now-useless tail a quarter of the way, and he lowered himself slowly onto his knees, no longer able to stand for the pain. However much easier it would have been to jerk free, rip the whole thing in one motion, he couldn't muster the strength. On his hands and knees, with half of his tail flopping like a rope behind him, the other pulled taut by the pressure of Bardock's finger, he pulled steadily forward. The sound of his tail tearing was audible, a sound like a piece of fabric being pulled apart. Bardock's eyebrows raised, impressed as the tiny Saiyan forced himself forward, ripping himself down to the original incision. Less than a foot from the door, however, he was stopped. Only a half of an inch or so of his tail hadn't been perforated, and pulling free from this would require much more strength than simply tearing along the line. He jerked his ass forward, bucking weakly against the restraint. As his movements quickened, they weakened, until he was simply twitching his hips forward effortlessly, sobbing in disappointment. His arms and knees buckled, and he landed on his face. "This is what everyone was talking about? This is the Prince of our race?" Bardock asked incredulously, standing over top of the kid. With one easy motion, he grabbed Vegeta's tail by the base, giving it a sharp twist to sever the vertebrae, and then ripped off the flimsy connection of skin. He dropped the two-pronged tail onto Vegeta's back. "You're disgusting. Look at what a pathetic little fuck you are…I haven't even broken a sweat, and you've already given up." With both hands this time, Bardock picked the little prince up by the waist, setting him on the bed, on his stomach with his face against the wall. "Ohhh you are going to love this." Bardock laughed, pulling out his penis again. The blood on it had dried, though it was still slick with pink-tinged spit. He eyed Vegeta's little bubble butt, blood dripping down into his crack from where his tail used to be, and found all the motivation he needed to work towards a full erection. Vegeta lay, catching his breath, during the few moments it took Bardock to rub himself to full-mast, dripping pre-cum onto the floor. The smell of blood was making him hornier than he thought he'd be, the prospect of plunging into the noisy little prince making his balls swell with semen, ready to burst out of him at any moment. With one hand steadying him on the small of his back, Bardock shoved his way into Vegeta. The pain at this point seemed to be too much to express through screams; though weird little gagging noises emitted from him, Vegeta otherwise only grew rigid. "Tightening up your asshole isn't going to make this any easier for you, yaknow." Bardock noted, feeling the already incredibly tight fit squeeze uncomfortably around his cock. He slid his way into Vegeta, passing through his rectum and pounding against his lower bowels. His ass tore as Bardock shoved into him, his anus becoming lost in the gaping, black hole Bardock was digging with his dick. It only took a few thrusts for Bardock to manage his way in fully, frottering against the little fist-sized organs. Furiously aroused, Bardock picked Vegeta up all the way, gripping him around the waist, pushing bruises into his ribs as he pounded him. A little loop of intestines looped around Bardock's cock, and he poked it back in with one finger before continuing with fresh vigor. When the orgasm shot its way through him, making his knees buckle, he came deep into the little midget's chest cavity. His hands gripped so tightly, pulling so firmly against the cut he'd made down the length of his abdomen, that it began to pull apart, just like the flesh of his tail; a few holes appeared along the perforation, and then the entire length split like chopsticks, letting his organs flop moistly onto the ground, along with a puddle of jizz. Bardock finished coming, and gazed boredly down at the stinking pile of insides lying on his floor. He pulled the sleeve off of his cock, holding it up to eye-height. Pretty clearly dead, possibly for some time; without screams, it was hard to gauge the exact moment of passing. His eyes were open, though rolled back, his face stuck in its final expression of pain and fear. The room stank. Bardock dropped the jellied remainders of the boy onto the floor, undressed, wrapped a towel around his waist, and made his way toward the group showers. Maybe it would be better if Frieza didn't know about this.


End file.
